Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the ambassadors and my main OC, Elenie.

Jazkar Tarkaan of Calormen looked up coldly at the gleaming castle walls. He was a tall, slender man with quick dark eyes and very thin, highly arched black brows. Gold bracelets gleamed at his wrists and rubies winked at his earlobes as he turned to glare at the troop of slaves he had brought to attend him. The gates of Cair Paravel creaked open slowly, revealing a group of Faun grooms that took the Tarkaan's pitch black warhorse to the stables. Jazkar motioned for his group to follow as a Naiad guide led them up the steps and down a corridor to the throne room.

The ambassador strutted arrogantly into the cavernous hall. A crier went before him, announcing, "His lordship, Ambassador Jazkar Tarkaan of the glorious empire of Calormen, sent to the White Barbarian Kings of Narnia by the almighty, the august, the eminent Tisroc, may he live forever."

The four kings and queens looked down from their seats. "My lord, your Tisroc honors us with your presence. However, we did not expect you until tomorrow," said King Peter, casting an askance look over the small gathering behind Jazkar. "We also did not expect so many visitors."

Jazkar waved a hand glittering with rings over the group. "My attendants," he explained carelessly. "You can rest assured that they will not need any accommodation beyond what you offer your own servants."

Peter eyes hardened as he met the ambassador's eyes. "My people," he said quietly, "have finer accommodations then their masters. Your charges will receive the same."

"As my lord wishes," said Jazkar silkily. Then he added, "Because of the lateness of the hour, I believe it prudent to retire at this time. As a great poet once said, 'when one is weary in body, one is weary in mind.'"

"Quite wise," answered Peter. He nodded to a Dryad who curtsied to the Tarkaan as he rose to follow. Once they had left the room Edmund said, "Where should we put the others? There's probably enough room in the tower quarters."

Peter voiced his assent and stepped up to Jazkar's troop, numbering about a dozen in all. They shied away, unused to being addressed by a noble, much less the High King. "The Queens will escort you to your rooms," he said kindly. "For their chambers are in the same area."

The servants nodded nervously as Susan and Lucy stepped down from their thrones. "You might as well tell us your names," Susan told them, "so we know what to call you by." Each person came forward and said their name. Each face was dark and each name was Calormene. "Is that all of you?" asked Lucy, smiling at each in turn.

"No, Milady," a small voice said. From behind the rest slipped a young girl about a year younger than Lucy. Her skin was fair, as smooth and fine as an eggshell. Clouds of white blond hair drifted down the back of her ragged dress as her sky blue eyes looked upward as the queens. "My name is Elenie," she said. "I polish my lord's jewels."

Lucy took the girl's hand and gestured for everyone to follow them. "If you want I'll put you in a room next to mine," the young queen told her charge. "And please call me Lucy."

A shadow of a smile pulled at Elenie's lips as she said, "I would like that, Lucy." Lucy beamed at her as she led her up a winding staircase to the tower rooms. Susan brought everyone else to different chambers as Lucy opened the door next to hers. Elenie wandered in slowly, gazing around with wide eyes. "It's all to good for me," she said, touching the soft quilt on the feather bed. "My master doesn't give me much."

Her hands flew to cover her mouth as Lucy looked on her with pity. "That's not what I meant," she whispered. "My lord is—alright—to me."

"Tell me, Elenie," said Lucy. "Where are you from?"

"My lord purchased me in the city of Tashbaan," answered the girl bravely. "I was four years old. I don't remember much before that."

"What about parents? Any family?"

Elenie shook her head, looking down at the patterned rug. Lucy stood silently in the doorway for a moment before bidding her good night and going into her own room to think.